Posted in humor, literature, tagged humor, literature on May 16, 2007| Leave a Comment »
It just occurred to me that I want a wordlibeest, with delicate prancing hip-hip-hurrooves and a thick glossolalia coat.
Just sayin.
PS: Not to be confused with its close cousin the worldlibeest, whose coat is more who-me, with a distinct flutter, and with a touch more jaded-green to the eyes.
PPS: And if this doesn’t smoke out of the woodwork, nothing will!
Posted in humor, literature, rambling, real life, tagged humor, literature, rambling, real life on May 14, 2007| Leave a Comment »
…though Robert Herrick might pass.
I love that Mike and I can start from Monty Python and end up at Ozymandias, but sometimes it’s hard to get to sleep afterwards. I was about 80% right, I forgot the stanza about ‘its sculptor well those passions read…’ like I almost always do. I wanted to look it up, and that poem that was with it in the anthology in… 4th? 5th? grade. I went through the English books fast enough that from about 3rd – 8th grade, the teachers would hand me a succession of English books that they weren’t teaching from and say, “here, read this and keep track of where we are in the regular book for when it’s your turn to read aloud.” One book had some *great* poetry in it that I remember some of still, including a piece that, thanks to the Goog, I now know is “Overheard in a Salt Marsh”. Ah, those green glass beads. Give them me.
At any rate, I ended up on a page of somebody’s syllabus, and have been poking through poetry bitz. Coleridge’s Mariner, yes, yes, and all the boreds did shriek (silently, in class) although I love the scansion. Great epic poems of the Romantic era apparently includes a lithesome, or lissome, if one prefers, ditty known as Chrisabel. This definition of ‘great’ would be directly out of The Princess Bride, as in, “You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.” However I will forgive both naive Chrisabel and sneaky-snake Geraldine (oh! GRENDALine, my Freudian typo!) because I found this great snarkass commentary on Kublai Khan.
Q: Why a dome?
A: What?
Q: Well, it’s just that I’ve noticed that Coleridge talks about this “Pleasure Dome” thing a lot and I want to know why?
A: Maybe he couldn’t think of anything romantic that rhymed with “Love Shack.”
Relentless Inquiry 